The-Sinful-King-By-Claire-Contreras-PDF

As we walked the hall, I examined the portraits that lined
the walls. With each step we took, kings and queens of the
past seemed to have their eyes on us, looking at us beneath
them, where we’d always belong. Their regard for tradition
wasn’t for naught. They truly lived it.
“This is crazy,” I whispered.
“Wait till they announce us,” Thomas whispered back.
“Announce—”
Before I could finish the question, the doors we were
walking toward opened before us and a man stood on the
other side with a paper in his hands. I looked forward and
saw the room held at least thirty people and suddenly I
wanted to retreat and bury myself in the sand. I was standing
here with Thomas, of all people, who most of society had
seen me naked with. Doing things with. My grip tightened in
his. He tightened his own and brought his other hand to
cover mine as well in a way that comforted me so much I
thought I could cry. It empowered me to stand there, head
held high, and not back down.
“Miss Adeline Sofia Isabella Bouchard and Sir Thomas
Evans,” the man said in a clear, loud voice.
“Sir?” I whispered.
“You don’t know everything about me.” Thomas
chuckled.
The people gathered in the room, looked at us. My eyes
jumped to each one of them, stopping on the queen before I
saw Elias. His expression was completely unreadable, but his
jaw was set and he looked pissed. At me? No. I’d given him no
reason to be angry. Beside him stood a tall, slender, blonde
woman with a warm smile and a small tiara on her head: the
Princess of Austria. If I had to guess, I’d say she’d won the
coveted position of future queen of France. Because I was
uncomfortable with the attention, the thought didn’t stab at
me like it had before. She also didn’t have a ring on her